Aussie Rules (19 page)

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Authors: Jill Shalvis

BOOK: Aussie Rules
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The big, badass Bo Black felt every bit as off his axis as she did. And the knowledge staggered her.

He pushed away from her car. “I figured out your present.” He handed her what looked like a legal document, folded in thirds. “Happy birthday.”

Mel opened it, scanned the header, and went still.
Oh, my God
.

“It's your lease for Anderson Air here at North Beach. I've renewed it at the same rate you've been paying for years.”

They both knew her rate had been highway robbery, and yet…“This says it's a twenty-year lease—” She choked out a laugh, then stared at him. “My lease was only good for another six months.”

“I know.”

Her gaze was caught in his, and everything there. “You've done this so that if you sell I'd be okay,” she breathed.

“Maybe I did it so you'd take me home with you and show me how grateful you are.”

“Bo. Don't ruin this by being stupidly male. My God.” She was blown away by the implications, by how much he cared about her future to have done this. “Bo—”

“If you're suddenly overcome by a need to talk, you owe me your thoughts on that file I gave you.”

She also owed him an orgasm, if they were keeping score. That unspoken thought floated in the air between them. Her blush must have given her away because he said, sounding quite irritated, “Just a talk, Mel.
Jesus
. You don't have to look like you're going to the guillotine.”

She took in his tight jaw, his flat eyes, and felt herself soften toward him all the more. “My house,” she said softly. “Meet me there.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then opened her car door for her without a word. He followed her home, and she used the ten-minute drive to give herself a reality check. He'd probably renewed her lease for twenty years at the same price to ease his guilty conscience for having the deed in the first place, or for considering the possibility of selling.

But even if that was true, what he'd done went over and above the call of duty. The stability and security he'd given her would allow her to breathe easy, to take her charter business in any direction she saw fit.

He'd done this, asking nothing in return.

When she pulled into her driveway and got out of her car, Bo followed, waiting until they were inside and she'd flipped on a few lights before he spoke again. “Tell me what you really wished for.”

She turned to face him. “How do you know I wished for anything?”

“I saw you concentrating. You squeezed your eyes really tight, like it meant something to you.”

He saw a hell of a lot, more than the people in her life, more than she wanted him to.

“I watched you,” he said quietly. “And thought, there she goes, mate, wishing you'd never shown up here.”

She stared at him, feeling a totally unexpected and unwelcome lump rise in her throat, threatening to choke her. Yeah, she'd wished on the candles, but not for what he'd thought.

She'd wished for security, for stability, for a damn night without stress, without worry.

And with the lease, he'd just given that to her on a platter. What kind of a bad guy did that?

He stood there, unusually solemn, unusually
not
cocky. Watching her.

Not a bad guy
.

She moved to the couch and sank down on it, pulling out the file he'd given her the other night. “You going to sit?” she asked.

“I'm thinking no.”

“Why not?”

“Because when we get close, our clothes tend to fall off.”

“My clothes,” she corrected. “You mean my clothes fall off. You have yet to get naked.”

His eyes blazed. “Don't tempt me.”

Chapter 18

M
el stared up at Bo, who still stood in her doorway looking a little tense and a whole lot sexy.

Not giving an inch.

“Come here, Bo.”

“Really bad idea,” he said, shaking his head. “Colossally bad idea.”

Interesting that when
she
was making the moves he held back. But she didn't want his famed control now, she wanted to give him something back, to show him in spite of the hell around them that she appreciated him, that she cared. That she got him.

He still wasn't moving forward. Fine. She'd go to him.

His mouth went grim as she stood up and headed toward him, his body going more tense. “Mel—”

“Yeah.” She set her hands to his chest, came up on tiptoe, and brushed her mouth to his. “I know. Bad idea, right? It's also stupid. I know that, too.”

“Don't.”

But she did, kissing him again.

Grabbing her arms in his hands, he hauled her up to her toes, a tic in his jaw. “Don't mess with me, Mel—we're supposed to talk.
Talk
, not—”

Leaning in, she nibbled at the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck.” This was uttered roughly as he held himself rigid while her mouth hovered a breath from his.

He was waiting breathlessly for a kiss, she could feel him quivering for it, but instead, she bit his lower lip.

He was up to the challenge. With a hissing breath, he yanked her up against him and covered her mouth with his, taking full advantage when she opened to him, gliding his tongue along hers.

She'd had some half-baked thought that this would be sweet and lovely and just what she needed. Ha! They'd said too much, been through too much for sweet and lovely, and anyway, she didn't really want either. She got hot, and wet, and oh, my God, the real deal. His arms banded hard around her. In fact he basically crushed her to him, kissing her longer, deeper, harder…

She loved the way her breasts mashed up to his chest, loved how big and strong he was, how he made her feel so feminine and so excited she could hardly stand it. “Ohmigod, Bo.”

“We're supposed to be talking.” Turning her, he pushed her against the wall, then spread his legs open on either side of hers, so that his very impressive erection pressed into her belly. He dipped a little, rocking his penis lower, right where she…wanted…it…the most.

“You don't feel like you're up for much
talking
,” she quipped.

“Yeah, one guess for what I
am
up for.”

Her heart drummed so fast she was shocked she could even hear him, but she didn't need to hear anything because then he cradled her head in his big hands to hold her head still and took her mouth again. In less than one second they were wild, straining against each other.
Lost
. He pushed up her tank tops, flicked open her bra, and groaned as her breasts popped free. “God. Look at you.” Bending, he sucked a nipple into his mouth while rasping his thumb over the other, and though she'd never thought of her breasts as particularly sensitive to a man's touch, her vision grayed, and she couldn't see or hear anything over her own blood rushing through her veins.

But she could feel, and oh, my God, what she felt—

And then his mouth was gone. “Bo—”

He dropped to his knees, jerked down the zipper on her pants, and yanked. Head level with her belly, he stared at her tiger-striped panties. “A wildcat,” he said, sounding a little hoarse. “I think this says a lot about you, darlin'.” He traced a strip from hipbone to between her legs, where the silk clung to her, making him groan.

“My boots—” She couldn't get her pants off until he removed her boots, and she needed, right this very minute, for him to sink into her body.

Instead, he slid the tiger material aside and exposed her to his gaze. “You're wet. Is it for me, Mel?”

“Yes,” she choked out, then nearly fell to the ground when he leaned in and kissed her,
there
, would have fallen if his hands hadn't gripped her thighs, holding her upright.

“I want you to come like this, with my mouth on you.”

“I can't—”

“Yeah, you said that before, too. What did you mean, you can't?” Still holding her panties to one side, he leaned in again and sucked her into his mouth, using his tongue to slowly stroke her.

Her head thunked back against the wall.

“Mel?”

“Yeah. Um…” She'd meant for him not to put too much effort into trying to get her to come because she usually couldn't without a big production and a lot of effort on her part, but explaining it was like throwing a big bucket of ice water on her lust. Even thinking it was a turnoff…“I just want you inside me.”
Please
.

“You don't come with men?”

She sighed. “Well, certainly not now that we've stopped to chat.”

She tried to twist away but he held her still, kissing each thigh. “Chatting is nice, too.”

No, she was done, thank you very much. “Forget it. I'm going to bed—”

“Shh.”

Oh, no he didn't. He didn't just…
shush
her! This was grounds for homicide, but then he leaned in and put his tongue on her again. He knew just the right pressure, the right rhythm, and suddenly, unbelievably, she was back on the very edge, trembling, panting for breath, when normally she'd be working so damn hard for an orgasm it wasn't worth the effort. “Oh, my God.”

The bastard let out a soft laugh while she sank her fingers into his hair and held on, thinking if he stopped, she was going to kill him.

But he didn't stop. In less than three minutes, he had her shaking and sobbing for breath. “Please,” she gasped, and then he slid a finger inside her.

And another.

She exploded, his name on her lips as she shuddered and completely, utterly lost herself in a collision of a thousand sensations.

When she came back to herself, he'd stood up, was in fact holding her up as well. “You all right?” he murmured, kissing her jaw, her throat.

Okay, maybe he wasn't a complete bastard. And she wanted more, fast, now. “In me,” she said. “Now.”

“Now works.” Scooping her up, he turned and tossed her to the couch, then followed her down. She tried to wrap her legs around him but her pants, still around her ankles, caught her. “Damn it—”

“I've got it—”

“Hurry—”

“Yeah, I got that part.” Scooting down her body, he fumbled with her boots. “Christ, how many knots do you need?”

She was pulling off his shirt, her eyes gobbling up his shoulders, his chest, those gorgeous six-pack abs she just wanted to sink her teeth into.

He was still fighting with her first boot, and she slapped his hands aside to undo the laces herself, then his hands moved in again, yanking off the boot, tossing it over his shoulder while she kicked the denim off that leg. Not waiting for the other boot, she tugged at his jeans, her fingers entangling with his as together they shoved the pants to his thighs.

“Oh,” she murmured in pleasure, holding him, stroking him.

With a groan, he grabbed her hands and lifted them over her head, pressing his hips to hers. “Let me in, Mel.”

Helpless to resist, she arched, wrapping her legs around his waist. Dipping down low, he rubbed his jaw to hers and smiled.

God, his face. Gorgeous, yeah, but the way he looked at her…She opened herself up to him, glided her hands down his smooth, sleek back, urging him on. “Now, Bo…”

“Wait. I want to—”

Arching up, she tightened her legs around him, pulling him toward her so that he almost pushed into her. The sensation dragged a rough groan from him and a helpless cry for more from her.

“Mel.
God
.” He pulled back a little, then slowly pushed back in, fully seating himself within her this time, her wet, sensitized flesh hugging him tight.

She was going to come again, an unbelievable feat—

“Wait,” he gasped, sounding strained. “Mel, wait—”

No. No waiting.

Her hands squeezed his squeezable butt as she tried to get him to move. Harder. Faster.

“Hold on,” he begged. “We can't—” His voice was hoarse, serrated as he pressed his pelvis to hers, the pleasure all over his face. He was, in fact quivering with it, but he didn't move again. “I don't have a condom.”

That stopped her. She looked up, met his gaze. He held himself rigid above her. There was a line of sweat down one temple, his jaw clenched tight. His muscles stood out in sharp relief, quaking faintly. “Not in your wallet?” she whispered.

He shook his head.

“Not—”

“Nowhere.”

“How could you not—”

His expression was close to pain, and frozen with intense concentration. “I didn't expect—”

“I'm going to cry,” she whispered. “I swear it.”

“Mel—”

The torture in his voice assured her that it was worse for him, far worse, as he hadn't already gotten off like she had, not the other night, and not tonight.

And in that moment, it changed for her. Somehow she went from frantic to warm and fuzzy, soft. He was breathing hard, shaking, and she knew what to do. “It's okay,” she whispered, stroking her hands up his chest, feeling his hot, damp muscles jerk beneath her touch. “Let me.”

“Let you what—”

She shoved hard and he fell off the couch, but she fell with him, rolling so that he landed on his back, with her straddling him.


Jesus
.”

“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, running her hands up his arms. She'd dislodged him from inside her body but she could feel him, hot and silky hard pressing against her. “Did I hurt you?”

“You're killing me.” He groaned when she slid down his body and wrapped her fingers around his hot and silky length. “
Killing
me.”

“Shh.” Smiling at how she'd finally shushed
him
, she leaned close, letting her hair fall and graze his belly, his thighs, eliciting another groan from deep in his throat, which turned into a strangled sound of immense pleasure when she took her tongue on a tour over him, from base to tip. “Mmm,” she said, and did it again.

The sound that escaped him was half-laugh, half a desperate plea. “
Mel
.”

She could hear his need, and lowered her head to fulfill it. It didn't take long, he was hard and hot and primed to go, and watching him, listening to him surrender to his body's need as he came, gave her far more pleasure than she could have imagined.

Afterward, the only sound as they lay flat on their backs was their ragged breathing.

“I don't know whether to thank you or apologize,” he finally managed.

Sitting up, she smiled. She felt him eye her as she began to straighten her clothes. She still had one boot on. Leaning in, he helped her with the knot, then he stood, staggering for balance before he righted his own clothes and zipped up his jeans. “Before you kick me out, we were going to talk.”

Body still humming, she blinked. “Kick you out?”

“You tend to do that.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

He sat heavily on the couch and looked at her. “I've got more information. I'm going to tell you now, if you can handle it.”

“And if I can't?”

“I'm going to tell you anyway.”

“Ah.” She nodded as her lingering pleasure faded away. “So the lease was, what, a peace offering? A way to loosen me up?”

“Maybe a little of both.”

“Nice.”

“I never pretended to be nice, Mel.”

No, but oddly enough, he was. Or at least he wasn't quite as badass as he'd let her believe. “And what do you call what we just did?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, if you want the truth.” He pulled her down beside him. “How about a game of truth or dare without the dare? Truth: I came here to see Sally, but that's never going to happen. Is it, Mel?”

She looked into his eyes and felt the foundation of her world crack.

“See, I've been researching Sally on the net,” he said. “Interesting thing. She's vanished. And she vanished a long time ago.”

“Well…” Mel winced. “Sort of.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes dark, reproachful.
Hurt,
damn it. “You let me think she was on a trip, that she'd be coming back.”

“I never actually said a trip.”

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